


Fireworks

by Kannika



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Family Shenanigans, Fourth of July, Gen, Tim Drake is So Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:35:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25072486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kannika/pseuds/Kannika
Summary: “On a scale from disappointing Bruce to Alfred having an aneurysm, where are we at?” Tim asked.Jason thought a second. “Dishonoring the family name?”Not bad, actually, by their usual standards.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Comments: 8
Kudos: 211





	Fireworks

**Author's Note:**

> My first Batfam! I love these nerds so much. I love all of Tim and Jason's different relationships, but for Fourth of July, I felt I needed to honor the fact that common sense deserts everyone as soon as you bring out fireworks and alcohol. Including literal geniuses.

When Jason showed up unannounced at Tim’s place, it usually wasn’t a good sign. When he showed up unannounced and knocked instead of crawling through a window, it meant there wasn’t an injury involved but it usually meant things were about to get very weird. 

Showing up, knocking on Tim’s door right as it was starting to turn dark outside, on the Fourth of July, with a big bag of mystery items? Not boding well. 

“I have an idea,” Jason said, troublemaking and ominous and excited all at once. 

Tim considered him. He didn’t really have plans for tonight, but he would like some idea of what he was getting into. He had a lot of questions. “On a scale from disappointing Bruce to Alfred having an aneurysm, where are we at?”

Jason thought a second. “Dishonoring the family name?” 

Not bad, actually, by their usual standards. Tim hummed, considering the bag in his hand, opaque and full of mystery. It probably made him a bad person for being suspicious, but he definitely was. “In a fun way or an illegal way?”

“The fun way is the illegal way, you nerd.” Jason apparently decided he was done waiting for his permission and shoved his way into the apartment. “Do you have a fire extinguisher?”

“Who do you think you’re talking to?”

“Right. A water-based one you won’t miss?”

“Under the kitchen sink.” So many questions. 

Jason got it and added it to his bag. It made a disturbing clanking noise as it hit whatever else was in there. “I already had a foam-based one,” he said, like that explained everything.

“Right.” Tim pinched the bridge of his nose. He pretty much always had a headache as it was, but Fourth of July made it that much worse. For that matter, so did Jason. “So. Explain this idea to me, slowly and precisely.” 

Jason shot him a sideways glance, slightly concerned. “Are you drunk?”

“Not enough,” Tim sighed. “Not nearly enough.”

Jason sighed long-sufferingly and handed over a flask from his bag. (Still raised a lot of questions, but in this case he would let it pass.) Tim took it eagerly. It was the American spirit, after all. “Will you hurt me if I pour this in my coffee?”

“I gave up on your tastes a long time ago.”

“You’re a filthy hypocrite.” Tim put a liberal amount in his mug and took a good long sip. Hopefully it would do its work by the time the real morons came out of the woodwork later. Feeling slightly more in control, he smacked his lips and leaned back against the counter. “So. Tell me about this bad idea you have.”

“You don’t know it’s a bad one yet.”

“It’s you. It’s a terrible one. Let’s hear it.”

Jason grinned, opening up his bag for Tim to finally see. There wasn’t just one foam-based fire extinguisher— there were five. And several rolls of duct tape. And a hell of a lot of sparklers. “So. I found an old shopping cart and an abandoned hill…”

Tim snorted and nearly inhaled his coffee. “You’re missing a flag to wave.”

“Timmy,” Jason said, sounding disappointed and very, very sly, “I _am_ the flag.”

He lifted the bottom of his shirt so that Tim could see the red paint on his stomach; he nearly choked again. This was moving higher up the scale than he originally thought. Nearing ‘if this gets on the news we will have to change our identities’ levels. He schooled his face into composure, though, for theater. “And… where am I in this scenario?”

“Manning the fire extinguisher in case I miscalculated my route.”

Tim nodded, taking his time, drawing out Jason’s patience as long as he could, and when he was about to crack he finally lowered his cup. “I can’t believe,” he said slowly, “that you would ask me to watch you.”

Jason blinked, frowning. “I thought—"

“Instead of taking video to send to Bruce.” 

Jason stopped short, processing the turnaround, and his face grew into a huge grin that always preceded trouble. “You are a goddamn _genius,_ you know that?”

“I’ve been told.” Tim grinned back at him. Yes, he was pleased. Poking fun at Jason was always a good way to spend the evening, and now, he was going to have a hell of a story to go with his night. And excellent blackmail. Did it count as blackmail if he was aware of it? “When are we leaving?”

“Now. It’s just starting to get dark.” Jason stood up. “Mask or no mask?” 

“Paint the mask like a flag.”

“Good. Yes. This is why you’re the smart one. Where’s your paint?”

“In the hallway closet. And no, you are _not_ painting me.”

_“Timmers—"_

“No,” Tim repeated as Jason reappeared with his (now much fuller) bag. 

“Come on, it’s Fourth of July! Live a little! Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Killed by my many years of trauma.”

Jason grinned at him wider. “You know what rules out trauma? _Alcohol.”_

Tim snorted. “Not in your wildest dreams are you getting me drunk enough to join you in the cart.” 

Jason grabbed him by the shoulder and dragged him out of his kitchen. “Night is young, baby bird. Night is young.”

“That sounds so damn ominous,” Tim groused. _“Everything you say_ is ominous. Is that your superpower?”

“Nah.” Jason grabbed a jacket that was probably his because it was _enormous_ and pulled it over Tim’s head. “It’s my brotherly power. Like Dick’s power of guilt-tripping and Damian’s… I dunno. Bloodthirstiness. Now come on. I know where both of them are patrolling tonight and I want to be all set up by the time they get there.”

This was going to be a terrible idea, but it was going to be _worth it_ for the looks on their faces, so Tim followed him out.

His brotherly power, after all, was being the instigator, and who was he to disappoint them?


End file.
